


sunflower

by humanveil



Series: the language of flowers [19]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Episode: s05e20 Show Me Going, F/F, Open Relationships, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-11 10:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15313119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: “C’mon, baby,” Gina says. “You know no one man can hold me down!”





	sunflower

**Author's Note:**

> Midway through writing this I realised Milton and Gina are assumed to be broken up, but whatever. For the purposes of this little fic they’re in an open relationship.
> 
> Enjoy!

_sunflower —_

_long life; adoration; loyalty and strong bonds._

They go to the bar as soon as Holt lets them leave; sit around for a couple of hours drinking mostly in silence and very pointedly  _not_  mentioning Rosa’s almost-near-death-experience. Rosa’s not dumb, though. She can feel their lingering worry, can read it in the way they act around her: the careful glances, the free drinks, the way they keep bringing focus back on her. 

She’s not exactly mad about it—might even like it a little. After all, it  _is_  nice to feel loved. No matter how big of a badass you are. 

When they leave, it’s late. They’re tipsy, or, in some cases, plain drunk, and they walk together as a little herd. Settling down outside the pub and fumbling to organise lifts home. Rosa stands against the wall of the bar, leather jacket pulled tight around her to ward off the cold. One hand is in her pocket, the other reaching for her phone when Gina appears at her side. 

“I got us an Uber,” she says, casual as anything, and Rosa arches a brow. 

“You live on the other side of town from me,” she points out, and Gina blows a raspberry. Waves her hand as if to dismiss the comment. 

“We’re not going to my place,” she tells her, like it should be obvious. Like Rosa should’ve assumed Gina would be coming back with her. “Iggy’s already asleep. Mama has some free time.” 

And that’s that. Their Uber shows up a couple minutes later—some dude called Dean driving a shitty Honda Accord who’s far,  _far_  too talkative for Rosa’s liking—and Gina follows her into the backseat. No questions asked. No explanation given. 

It feels sort of like old times. 

[]

Gina moves through her apartment with the same familiarity she’s always had, walking around like she owns the place even though Rosa knows damn well this could only be her third, fourth time inside. 

“So, spill,” Rosa says, locking the door behind them. She shrugs out of her leather jacket, chucks it across the back of a kitchen stool and walks toward her sink. Fills a glass up with water. “What do you want?”

It’s simple, to the point. She downs the water, and when she turns, Gina is there.  _Right there._  All up in her personal space, her mouth pulled in a secretive grin and her eyes twinkling under the low light of Rosa’s kitchen. 

“You,” Gina says, reaches to tap Rosa on the chest, and Rosa feels her brows raise. Because, okay, sure. They’ve done this before. But not for a while—not for a long while. 

“What happened to Mike?” she asks, because there’s no way in  _hell_  she’s getting between someone and their baby daddy. Gina’s not really the type, anyway. Or so she’d thought. 

“Milton,” Gina corrects. 

“Right. Him.” Rosa hasn’t moved, and neither has Gina. She’s still close.  _Too_  close. “I thought things were good.”

“They are,” Gina says, and then she’s grinning again. Head tilting as she steps back a little, gives Rosa a look. “C’mon, baby,” she says, words laced with laughter. “You know no one man can hold me down!”

Her hands are raised at her sides, her expression genuinely surprised that Rosa’s been this slow, and  _oh_ , Rosa thinks. Just, oh. 

“You mean—” she starts, gets cut off before she can finish. 

“Yeah,” Gina says. Leans back in, up. Her mouth hovering near Rosa’s when she adds, “He knows where I am.” 

It’s easy, after that. Gina closes the distance between them and Rosa sees no good reason to fight it, so she doesn’t. 

[]

Later, when they’re in her bed and Gina is lying against her side, one of Rosa’s old NYPD shirts acting as a pair of pyjamas, Rosa looks down and says, “You were worried about me, huh.”

She’s smirking. Teasing. Her lips twitching like she’s fighting a grin. Gina rolls to face her, looks up from her phone to meet Rosa’s eye. 

“Shut up,” she says. Leans in to kiss her again—once, twice. Three times. “We all were.” 

“Mmhm.” Rosa drags the noise out, runs her fingers down Gina’s arm but doesn’t say anything else. 

She still doesn’t want to talk about it, but she feels okay, here. Feels safe and loved and cared for, and it’s enough to ease the lingering anxiety. To settle her mind enough that sleep comes easy. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments & kudos = ♡♡♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/irnstrk) / [tumblr](http://humanveil.tumblr.com/)


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